It's Not A Simple Life
by multicoloured carpet
Summary: Alex Rider is about to be exposed, and no one knows what to do.
1. It's Beginning

**Hi guys! My first time writing fanfiction, but don't let that put you off! I'm excited about people reading my stories, so i'd like to ask you to keep you reviews flame-free, but constructive criticism will be received with open arms (and an open mind)!**

**Disclaimer: Yes, YES!!!! **_**Then she woke up...**_

"Just where did you get _that_ from?" Tom's eyes were widened in a look of horror. He was facing Alex Rider, and all Tom could do was gape. Alex sighed, and shifted the life-sized stuffed bear that was occupying his arms. Honestly, that thing was _heavy_.

"My maths teacher gave it to me. She was worried that I had a lack of stuffed animals to snuggle with at the end of a long, hard day. Isn't our maths teacher so considerate?" Sarcasm dripped off Alex's words like venom off a snake. Tom just stared incredulously. Taking pity on the seemingly brain-dead boy, Alex told him how Jack had taken him to the carnival yesterday.

He told Tom how Jack had gotten so frustrated at the booths that she was in danger of popping a blood vessel, claiming they were rigged. Alex had just raised an eyebrow at this comment, conveying the rather obvious message: _all_ carnival booths were rigged. Getting a mischievous glint in her eye, Jack had proceeded to drag him over to the single shooting booth. _Go on, _she'd said, evilly, _prove what you just said. _Of course, Alex had won first prize. What Jack hadn't counted on though, and neither had Alex, was the frighteningly large awe-inspired crowd that had gathered with the sole mission of gawking at him. There were old men, old women, families and the booth-runner himself. There was a limit as to how many people could stare at you before you became rather uncomfortable. For Alex, it was like torture.

He was snapped back to the present by Tom leaning in close to the bear's face. The boy opened his mouth, and almost instinctively Alex knew that the next words coming out of his mouth were not going to be the brightest words ever spoken.

"That bear kind of looks like my grandmother, don't you think?" Good old Tom, he never disappointed.

"Tom, with you, everything looks like your grandmother." Alex said with an amused chuckle.

"Yeah, she's funny like that." He replied.

_Sometimes ,_thought Alex,_ it's just not worth a comment_.

The two boys decided on football in the park for an hour or two, before Jack came home and Tom had to go back to his psychotic parents.

"Alas," he'd exclaimed, "my life is merely a recreation of that written by D. in 'Discord in Childhood'. Do you not agree, my fair damsel?"

"I hope you're not talking to me Tom, because if you are, you'd better enjoy your manhood while it lasts."

"Ouch, Alex." Tom actually had to suppress a wince, a fact which made Alex smirk. The truth was, Alex was not in the best of moods. His sixth sense had been tingling for the last five minutes, and he felt the eyes of a hunter on him. However, like a hunter, Alex knew that whoever was stalking them would wait until he was alone.

He pretended to drop a sweet wrapper just as they passed a bin, and bent down to pick it up. Quick as lightning, he whirled around from his crouched position; just in time to steal a glance at a man quickly turn around to hide his face. Alex cursed. This guy knew what he was doing. As soon as he found out that Alex knew, he'd done the next best thing; hidden his face. Alex slowly straightened up from his crouch, and threw the wrapper in the bin, before turning to look at Tom. The boy didn't seem to have noticed anything amiss.

Resolving not to worry the boy, Alex returned to walking amiably with his best friend.

Three hours after they reached the park, Alex was crushing the younger boy with a score of 12-3 to him. Victory was sweet. Tom had grumbled when they eventually decided to stop, muttering about 'unfair advantages'. Alex just grinned widely and nudged him in the ribs.

"Race you to the gates?" He asked.

"You're on!" Tom yelled. They both sprinted to the park gates, panting and losing what little composure they had. They ended up neck-and-neck, both slamming into the gates as neither was willing to slow down. An old man walking past looked at the two teens sprawled on the grass, and just shook his head. This managed to somehow set off the boys, and they erupted into gales of laughter, which continued for a full five minutes, both wiping tears of mirth from their eyes. Soon though, it was time to go home.

Tom left first, and Alex turned to pick up his jacket where he'd left it around 50 yards away. Retrieving it, he straightened up and walked through the gates. Almost immediately, Alex sensed those eyes on him again.

_Very well then, _Alex thought, _I'll show him just who he's dealing with. _With this resolve, he headed towards the less populated areas of Chelsea, already feeling himself slipping into his other persona. With a new carefully-masked purpose to his step, Alex strode forwards.

Though his facial features remained light and carefree, his eyes were now shrouded in ice, and had you stared into their depths, you would see unimaginable pain, and how it had aged him. You would see the deadly accuracy of a professional.

**Please review, I promise I will reply to all comments!**

**P.s. If you haven't heard of D. (we're doing an essay on him in English; bore, but his poems are actually quite interesting, full of deep meaning) I would also recommend reading 'Piano' by him as well!**

**Plz review!**


	2. And No One Knows

**Hello, I'm back! Alex says he's happy to see you again! No, not **_**that**_** Alex, I don't own him. Yet.**

**Disclaimer: See above, and then bake for 20 mins.**

Alex led the man past the shops, houses and streets. He never once gave any sort of indication that he knew he was being followed.

He was just a boy walking home on a Sunday afternoon. There was no reason for any passers-by to take a second look at him – what harm could he do?

As Alex continued, he could see the amount of people walking on the streets decreasing, cars driving along the roads becoming sparse. Soon, he was alone. He glanced around discreetly for the tenth time, looking for any other suspicious characters; surely whoever his stalker worked for wouldn't have sent just one man to dispatch him?

_Don't get cocky,_ he berated himself, _this guy could very well have the skill to take you out in one fell swoop. Keep up your guard. _He recalled how the man had hidden his face earlier, and he knew this guy was far from a rookie.

Finally, he found the perfect alley. Wide enough for suitable manoeuvre in combat, yet narrow enough that a gun would be practically useless at such close point-blank range. And, most importantly, the alley was shrouded in darkness. With an indiscernible nod to himself, he slipped into the cover provided for him, and set about changing his appearance.

His hair would have to stay blonde, after all the man had seen a fair-haired boy step into the alley; if he changed the colour now, the man would catch onto his disguise attempt instantaneously. Alex set about changing his eye colour instead. He took out his coloured contacts from the front pocket of his bag, and nudged them in place. He knew that his eyes would now be an icy blue, instead of his normal, stony brown. He then scrounged in one of the large dustbins that hugged the side of the alley, and came up with his hand smothered in a form of grease. Alex rubbed it through his hair first, then, scrunching his eyebrows in disgust, over his forehead, nose, and chin; he then took out a red marker pen and drew on acne spots with an artist's hand. This would have to do for now.

Alex slipped further into the alley and melted into the shadows.

XxxxxxX

He didn't have long to wait.

The man entered cautiously, making no sound as he observed his surroundings. He'd been so sure that the target had come this way, but the alley seemed devoid of any other life.

Suddenly, he heard a scuffle, a muffled expletive and the unmistakable sound of a glass bottle shattering.

The man frowned; the target they had told him about may have been a teenager, but they had drilled it into him that he had the stealth and cunning of an assassin. That sort of noise could never have happened with Alex Rider.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw a trainer step out from the shadows, and he immediately went into a seasoned fighting stance, but that step was followed by a stumble. He saw a fair haired boy emerge, about the right physique as the target and the same height. However the boy's eyes were a crystal blue, and in the dim light his skin looked as though it was going through a major outbreak; the man frowned even more – this boy just didn't fit the image of the professional he had been told about, though he didn't lessen his stance.

Trembling, and in a fearful and needy voice, the boy called out.

"Who are you?" He asked. "What do you want with me!?"

The man straightened up. No way in hell was this the right target; he must have lost his focus for a moment and latched on to another boy who looked similar.

As he turned to leave, he thought he saw the boy smirk. What?

His face drained of all colour as the pieces clicked.

XxxxxX

Alex almost laughed outright. As soon as the man started to turn his back to him, he lashed out with a side kick. The man stumbled, shocked, and was given no time to recover before Alex started a series of front kicks and knife hand strikes.

This man was almost done for, and Alex let his guard slip for a moment. It happened to be a moment too much. In that second, the man struck with a vicious kick to the hip that off-balanced Alex, and forced him to back off a couple of steps.

_How had he managed to recover so quickly? _Alex cursed.

They stood facing each other again; though this time on equal footing. Both faced each other with impenetrable masks, finding no weakness in the other.

Alex knew he was in trouble the moment the man smiled. He watched with cool eyes as his attacker reached behind him and pulled out a gun. He pointed it not 5 inches from Alex's head and clicked off the safety, then spoke in a chilling voice.

"How does it feel knowing you're about to die?" He asked.

"I wouldn't know." Alex replied. _Lie,_ he thought.

In the same millisecond, Alex's leg flashed out into an axe kick; straight up then down, quick as lightning, going for speed rather than power. The gun clattered onto the ground and Alex kicked it away. The attacker shouted in agony as he nursed his broken hand, and Alex allowed himself and inward smile.

The man acted first, and lashed out with a fatal knife-strike with his other hand. Alex ducked the blow, and tried to sweep the man's legs from under him, however was met with thin air as the man jumped nearly as fast as Alex had ducked the first blow.

The fight continued for 3 minutes, neither person tiring. In the heat of the battle Alex never even noticed the man brush his hand along his neck, nor did his adrenaline fuelled state pick up on the slight sting that followed.

Soon, it became obvious that Alex was gaining the upper hand. He went through a series of hook reverse kicks, punches, and finally landed with a roundhouse kick that knocked the man unconscious.

_Finally, _he thought. Alex was weary now, and the man had gotten in a few good punches to his body, but only one had landed on his face. He could feel the bruise throbbing now, and knew he was going to have fun explaining that to everyone in school tomorrow.

_Crap, school!_ He panicked. He'd forgotten about the mass of homework he had left unfinished on his desk.

As a second thought, Alex grabbed the fallen gun and stashed it in the belt of his trousers, making sure it was covered by his shirt.

Dragging the unconscious man further into the shadows to avoid detection, he quickly rushed home to Jack, unaware of the chip planted in his neck.

XxxxxX

Several hours later, the man in the alley stirred. He groaned as he remembered that he'd been knocked out by a fifteen-year old boy, but a smile slid onto his face when he remembered that he had fulfilled his orders.

_This chip must be inserted into his neck, _his boss had said. _It is primed to activate on Monday, at precisely 12 o'clock. You may not kill him. He is to leave the fight alive. We will take care of the rest._

The man started to chuckle. He almost felt sorry for the boy. Alex Rider was in deep trouble, after all.

Because Scorpia never forgets. And they never forgive.

XxxxxX

"Alex!!"

**Heee, i'm evil, what a cliffie! If you liked it so far, please review! I don't mind if it's just to say that you liked (or hated) the chapter and nothing else.**

**I know the fight was very drawn-out, but it was necessary to the plot, as it's supposed to be quite a major event. Hmmm, what will happen to Alex? One can only imagine.**

**A personal thanks to:**

**Iamawsome**

**Sabsi13**

**It's A Bonsai Tree and**

**OneRepublic**

**For reviewing the last chapter!**


	3. How It Will End

**Hello! I bring greetings and have the third chapter all ready for you! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I said I have the third chapter, not Alex Rider.**

"Alex!!" Jack yelled, "What happened to you _this _time?!"

Alex sighed wearily; he was exhausted from the recent encounter, and irritated by the strangest sensation in his neck – it was exactly like the feeling of having a needle pressed against your skin continuously. He reached up to rub at the offending area, but this only seemed to aggravate it further.

Letting his hand drop back to his side, he opted to answer his guardian instead. Really, she looked as though she'd quite happily drown puppies if it got her an answer.

"Jack," he started, speaking softly, "First of all, you're yelling. Secondly, there really isn't anything to be worried about – I'm fine, and the guy who tried to kill me is unconscious lying next to a dumpster in an alley. It's not like this hasn't happened before," he said, referring to the Chinese Triad, and quite recently, Myra Bennett.

"And all those times you were sucked into life-threatening missions! You came back scarred, Alex, every time you leave you come back scarred! Do you see why I'm worried?" Jack whispered with a desperate tone to her voice.

Alex wanted to contradict her. When Myra Bennett had kidnapped him, it had been _after_ his official mission.

"Yes Jack, I know, and I'm sorry." He said.

"Are you, Alex? Because sometimes, I can't tell. After Desmond McCain – and all those burns –" Jack's voice caught in her throat. She was angry, and that anger was threatening to spill over in tears.

"I'm sorry, Alex. I know you don't go looking for this." She said.

Alex went over to her, and tried to calm her, to reassure her that he was still here; alive, and in one piece. He hated what he did to her.

Jack surprised him by enveloping him in a bear hug. By this point, Alex was _very_ aware of the gun under his shirt, and just now remembered that he had never flicked the safety back on.

_Oops, _he thought, _what a mood spoiler that would have been if it had gone off._

He stepped back guiltily, and noticed that she was staring at his neck with an expression of puzzlement. Jack opened her mouth as though to say something, then promptly shut it and shook off her confusion.

"What is it, Jack?" asked Alex. He raised an eyebrow at his guardian.

"Nothing. It was nothing." She replied, though she sounded less than sure. "Why don't you go upstairs and finish your homework?"

Alex pulled a face and Jack chuckled. "Yes," she said, "I'm well aware of the load on your work desk. Have fun!" She continued, a bit too cheerful for Alex's liking.

Grumbling, he trudged up the stairs. He could already hear Jack moving around in the kitchen, and settled down to focus on atomic ions.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

XxxxxX

When Alex woke that morning at 6:55, his thoughts were of Sabina. He missed her. It had been two months since he'd seen her last, and that had been while he was busy rescuing her and her father from that lake in Scotland.

Thinking of Sabina made his eyes wander to the oversized stuffed bear at the end of his bed.

_Is it me or is that thing leering at me? _He thought. _That's creepy. Ok, it's definitely sizing me up. _His thoughts turned to the gun that he had placed in his drawer. He rose, fetched it, and then sat back down on his bed, contemplating it.

It felt – _right _in his hands. That scared him more than anything. The way his hands held it so expertly, the way his eyes roved over it, as though familiarizing himself with an old friend. His mind recognised every part of the gun, from the barrel to the trigger, to the magazine that was nestled just inside, and how to utilize those parts to their fullest efficiency.

He started to disassemble the gun, hesitant at first, but gradually he gained confidence until his hands were just a blur, and in 30 seconds flat, the gun lay in pieces around his bed, everything arranged in a very specific order, just as he had been taught.

Alex picked up the single magazine first, and examined the bullets. They were tipped with lead, and 9 mm wide. There were also ten of them. He frowned heavily at this; that didn't make sense. Scorpia would never supply an assassin with more than one bullet. More bullets meant a heavier gun, but more importantly, if the gun was found by an enemy agent after a hit, the bullets could provide a trace back to Scorpia. And Scorpia hated loose ends.

Alex allowed himself a small smile. He himself was perhaps one of their most dangerous loose ends.

But suppose it hadn't been Scorpia?

Setting down the magazine, he picked up the barrel of the gun. He could see that it had been cleaned very recently, but more than that, the inside of the barrel was spotless; this meant that not a single shot had been fired since it had been cleaned. As a bullet was pushed forward by the spring in the gun, it would always leave a mark as it journeyed through the barrel. Some sort of scrape. Not enough to slow down the bullet in any way, just enough for detection.

"Alex!" yelled Jack, "Are you up yet? You'll be late for school."

Twisting around to see his alarm clock, he realized it was already 7:30am.

_How long have I been examining the gun? _He thought, shaken by how much time had passed without his notice.

He swept his eyes over the rest of the parts and, satisfied, started to reassemble the gun, seemingly without even looking at it. Alex shuddered to think just how much of a mark Scorpia had left on him.

Pushing the thought aside, Alex scrambled to get ready in time for school. Dressing, Alex once again decided to slip the gun onto his person, this time latching it onto the inside of the waistband of his trousers. Finally, fifteen minutes later, he was out of the house and on his bike, pedalling furiously towards Brookland Comprehensive.

XxxxxX

"Hey, Alex!" Tom yelled. "Where've you been?"

"Narnia, Tom." At Tom's blank stare, he decided to elaborate. "I was running late; that's all."

Tom had bounded up to him the minute he'd entered the school gates, and they were walking side by side, Alex wheeling his bike along.

"Um, Alex? What's that on your face?" asked Tom.

As Alex opened his mouth to answer, Tom interrupted. "And if you give me another sarcastic reply, I will steal your bike and hang it from a tree."

"Yes, because you've apparently got all the muscle brawn needed for _that._" Alex smirked.

Before Alex knew what had happened, Tom had taken his bike and was currently sprinting to the woods behind the school.

Alex sighed, and yelled, "Tom, give me back my bike!"

"Make me!" came the far-off reply. Tom was still running. Shaking his head, Alex gave chase.

Heaven knew what the rest of the school thought of them; one boy was running maniacally with a bike yelling in triumph, while the other was hot on his trail shouting obscene death threats.

Alex eventually caught up with Tom; it wasn't all that hard really. He wrestled Tom to the ground and then promptly walked back to the school to get it locked up. Seeing the dazed boy still on the grass, he left one last piece of advice for him.

"Tom? If you really wanted to get away from me, why didn't you _get on_ the bike instead of running with it?" Alex laughed.

_Of course!! _Tom yelled in his mind, then – _Why didn't I think of that?_

XxxxX

The first two periods passed by without incident, though Alex did not got stop getting strange stares from his classmates. No doubt it was about the blossoming bruise on his face. He was also feeling that sting in his neck, only now it was worse than ever. It was like something was just _lodged _there, but every time he brought up his hand to brush his neck, he didn't feel anything.

Resolving to worry about it later, he wondered what he would do if the gun in his trousers was found. Call MI6? They didn't know about it either. He'd just have to be careful.

Break came and they all filed outside.

James Hale came up to Alex, worried about the bruise he'd received. And, of course, curious. Then again, this was Alex Rider. Strange and Alex went hand in hand at Brookland Comprehensive. And there was bodily harm too, that held Alex's other hand.

"Dude, are you ok?" He asked.

"Yeah, James, I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Alex replied.

James looked like he wanted to protest, but kept his mouth shut. Instead, a sly grin came across his face.

"You know the latest rumour people are spreading? That you're in a gang and selling drugs."

Tom hooted. "I heard that one! Imagine, Alex in a gang!"

James just looked thoughtfully at Alex, or more precisely, the bruise on his face. "Yeah, imagine." He said.

XxxxX

It was around twelve when Alex started to notice something wrong. As soon as the second hand struck midday, his instincts became troubled, and the sting in his neck began to throb. Not like the throb of a bruise, but more like a – second pulse. Like a clock ticking.

Third period was halfway through; he could focus on it at lunch. But there was still something wrong. His instincts were telling him to give this new throbbing his entire attention.

Alex focused on the clock, and timed this new throb against the second hand. He noticed a pattern immediately. One throb to every two seconds. What worried Alex more was its _precision – _it was too accurate.

He focused it against his usual pulse. No rhythm. It was like the two were entirely unconnected.

He brushed his hand against the concealed gun, reassuring himself it was still there. Just in case.

But this was Brookland Comprehensive. It was s_chool. _What could reach him here?

Twenty minutes had passed, and lessons would be drawing to a close soon. Everyone's heads were bent studiously over their books, when Alex's specialized MI6 mobile phone rang.

Ignoring the teacher's protests and shouts, Alex dug around in his bag and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Alex speaking." He said, still sitting down. The teacher was advancing towards him, and everyone was staring, looks of curiosity plastering their faces. In Tom's case, concern.

"Alex, this is Mrs. Jones."

"What's wrong?" He asked, barely keeping the impatience out of his voice.

"It's Scorpia." Alex paled, and his arm shook.

"They've found you."

The phone dropped.

**Wow what an evil cliff hanger. I feel almost bad leaving it at this. But all for the suspense! What will happen to Alex?**

**OK, time to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter!**

**Zeze123**

**OneRepublic**

**Talionyzero**

**Sabsi13**

**32-star**

**FCgrl**

**rmiller92**

**It's A Bonsai Tree**

**Thanks everyone for reading my story, and all the lovely reviews! I promise to reply to every one.**

**That's it, look forward to the next chapter! Things finally start to happen!**


	4. Because Once Bitten

**Hi! Ok, so I know it's been a bit of a wait, well not really long since I suppose most authors wait a week before posting, but long for me anyway! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the others! (Maybe even more?) ;D**

**Three things I'd like to say: First of all, I loved everyone's reviews and I can't believe how many people added my story to their alerts or favourites! Woooo!**

**Secondly, I'd like to make the story the best it can be, so I'd appreciate it **_**sooo**_** much if people could tell me what they hope to see become of Alex, though I will not do death or depression. But more importantly, I'd like to know if there are some things that you felt I've skipped out on, or any out-of-character-ness. So far, I'm walking blindly with no idea of what I'm doing well or not, so if you could include it in your reviews, I'd be ecstatic!**

**Also, so many fictions say that Wolf sent Alex a card after hearing he had appendicitis. Is it actually stated in the books, or just a fanon?**

**Disclaimer: I own the A/N above. Alex? Not so much.**

**XxxxX**

"_It's Scorpia." Alex paled, and his arm shook._

"_They've found you."_

_The phone dropped._

"Alex?" Called his teacher in a frustrated voice, though he wore a mask of concern.

The pupil in question stared blankly at the front wall of the classroom, and showed no sign of having heard the man.

Alex groaned, and slowly slumped down on his chair to cradle his head in his arms, inches away from the surface of the desk. Inside, his thoughts slowly burned into just two words.

_Why me?_

Tom saw that Alex was seemingly oblivious to the rest of the class, who were staring at him so intensely, that Tom actually wondered how Alex didn't spontaneously combust from all the concentrated thought aimed at him.

_Not the time, _he reminded himself. _Alex needs some help._

The class watched apprehensively as Tom stood and walked carefully to Alex's side, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. Alex turned to look at him, and Tom had to force himself from gasping out loud – this was a side of Alex no one saw. His best friend was vulnerable, lost, and worst of all was the expression in his eyes. They told of his entire fourteenth year, displayed in a single emotion.

_Loss._

The class held their breath as one, as Alex opened his mouth to say something to Tom.

"_How did they find me, Tom?" _ He asked.

Tom didn't ask who; something told him he didn't want to know.

Then as soon as the question had passed his lips, another change stole across Alex, and this time he was less defenceless.

_The _hell_ I'm going down! _He thought in anger, _they'll find out just how well they trained me._

He felt himself harden; instantly moulding himself into the person Scorpia had always wanted him to be. Tom watched with furtive eyes as his best friend became unrecognisable. Alex's face schooled its expressions until he was perfectly impassive, his eyes built an impenetrable wall between himself and the world, and his body at once seemed to relax, while sending Tom's instincts into frenzy at the danger that rolled off his friend in a tangible flood.

Tom involuntarily stepped back; this new Alex terrified him.

Alex stood up, and began to pack his school bag. The day would finish in three hours anyway; he wouldn't miss much, and besides the situation was too delicate to delay. However, his teacher seemed to have other ideas for his pupil.

"Alex!" He shouted, "What do you think you're doing? And how dare you disrupt my class like that, you more than anyone should know how precarious your position here is!"

_More than you know, sir. _Outwardly, he expressed no signs of having heard the infuriating man, and calmly made his way to the oak door across the classroom.

The rest of the class was still dumbstruck, and their gaze followed Alex's graceful gait. As he passed close to the other students, they visibly shrank back at the lethality he exuded from his every movement. He was alert, watching for any sign of an impending attack. He could feel his teacher approaching him with growing desperation at the student who was so blatantly disobeying him.

It happened when Alex felt a hand slap down on his shoulder. No sooner had it descended, than Alex had reacted. Spinning so quickly that he appeared to blur, Alex had caught the arm belonging to the hand, and with his gaze told his teacher not to bother stopping him.

He knew it was admittedly overboard, but he was still reeling from the shock that Scorpia could attack at any given time, and he would be powerless to prevent it.

The minute he left the classroom, he heard the students going into disarray, and allowed an amused glint to show in his eyes.

If Alex was being truthful, he didn't quite know when he had acquired an assassin's mindset. It seemed to have happened sometime during his ninth mission, a week after his birthday. His burns had barely healed before he was shipped off to Malta, and they had still pained him a little.

_Perhaps it was after I snapped that woman's neck, and felt nothing? _He mused a little longer, and wondered what might have happened if his mind hadn't procured this persona to help him deal with that action.

_I would probably have gone mad, _he told himself.

He picked up his bike where he had left it a lifetime ago, and wheeled furiously to the Royal and General.

XxxxxX

Pushing open the doors, Alex strode in, determined to scrape out every piece of information he could get from Blunt.

Ignoring the secretary's protests, Alex went straight into one of the two elevators. Luckily for him, the agent on camera duty recognised him, and was able to wave him through the elevator. If Alex had not been recognised, he would have been taken to the basement, and immediately deposited into one of the many interrogation cells that littered the MI6 headquarters.

Stepping out onto the plush carpet of one of the highest floors of the building, Alex walked briskly towards the door that said: A. Blunt.

Agents on their way back from debriefing nodded to him in greeting. They had seen Alex walk these corridors too many times to think that he was just another teen – he may be a highly classified state secret, but that didn't stop almost everyone in the building from having a general idea of what he did.

Stopping first to listen outside the door to make sure he wouldn't be interrupting another agent, Alex slipped in.

If Alan Blunt and Mrs. Jones were surprised to see him, they didn't show it. Alex calmly sauntered into the room, quiet as the wind, and sat down before anyone had said anything. Now he was ready to hear what he needed know. Mr. Blunt spoke first.

"Alex, we were expecting you, though you've come rather early." He cocked an eyebrow, but at the boy's silence, he continued.

"We received intelligence approximately one hour ago that Scorpia had come to know of your position. We are still unsure as to how they gained this knowledge, unfortunately, but we are doing our utmost to find out.

"How are you planning to deal with the situation, then?" Alex asked.

"Deal? We are dealing with it Alex."

"I meant, how are you planning to protect my school and Jack in case of an attack?" Alex was feeling increasingly nauseous, already not liking where this was going.

"Rest assured, Alex, they do not know where you live yet. Jack is quite safe. In terms of your school, however, I'm afraid that there is very little that we can do." Mrs. Jones was looking distinctly uncomfortable on Alan's right-hand side, while Alex looked on in disbelief.

"Come again?"

"Alex, we simply do not have the manpower to station guards in your entire school, especially not with the current situation." At Alex's questioning gaze, Blunt continued.

"It seems that someone found out about Scorpia's defeat at your hands involving the Snakehead, rendering our previous agreement useless. However, not before a client made them an interesting proposal. We are still investigating the matter, and we need an agent to go in and find the information we need. Preferably, a smaller agent, with a 100% success rate."

"But surely I would be too conspicuous? What are the chances that another young teen would have what it takes to get into Scorpia? I'd be found the second someone laid their hands on me!"

"No, Alex," said Blunt, "In this stage, Scorpia is not taking on any new recruits. We will provide a safe house for you in Venice, and you must remain out of sight. We already have intelligence on their next headquarters. "

"This is a suicide mission." Alex remarked.

"This is why we need the best."

"Tell me more about the proposal." urged Alex.

Mrs Jones spoke for the first time. "It seems that this particular client has something against the military. They wish to wipe out Britain's army. This will certainly be a difficult objective for Scorpia, but we will not underestimate them. You will be flown to Venice in two week's time. Until then, you are to spend the remaining week in school, and the entirety of next week at the SAS training site in the Brecon Beacons."

Alex instantly felt ice form in his stomach.

_Not there again, please, no, _he thought. But he saw the unwavering resolution in Alan Blunt's eyes. He was going back to Brecon Beacons.

"Of course," Mrs. Jones continued, "You will be able to decide in which unit you will be placed beforehand. Do you have any idea now?"

Alex thought about it intensely. He could stay with another unit, and begin afresh, but who's to say they wouldn't hate him even more than K-unit? At least he'd left Wolf on suitable enough terms at the end of Point Blanc, and if Ben was anything to go by, then he might have a better chance of finding K-unit's easy-going side than any other unit.

"Alright," he said at length. "I'll stay with K-unit."

"Excellent choice," said Blunt, and Alex got the feeling that he would have been staying with K-unit even if he had picked otherwise. With a sigh, Alex let it go.

"Smithers will provide you with the necessary gadgets at the time of departure to Venice. Also, I feel it essential to inform you that going back to your house may alert Scorpia of where you live. You are welcome to stay in the rooms that we can provide here at the Bank. Dismissed." Alan Blunt went back to examining the files in front of him.

"Wait," called Alex, "You haven't told me what you're going to do about my school's situation."

"Along with you being there for a week to ensure no immediate attack takes place, we will post SAS Units along with our own agents to guard the school."

Mrs. Jones seemed to have something more to say. "Alex, to ensure your personal safety, we will also be placing you under the care of two of our agents as of tomorrow. They will stop by your house today to bring along the items required for your stay here at the Bank. They will also inform Jack of your current position, seeing as any calls to her will have to be secured first. Agent Hutch is waiting outside to take you to your room."

"One more thing, Alex. I'm afraid you will have to relinquish your gun to Agent Hutch as well."

Alex cursed, then nodded and left.

XxxxxxX

_Scorpia HQ, Venice_

"I will ask you one more time." The woman's voice was deadly, slicing through the tension in the room as easily as a shark in the ocean. "How did they find out that we knew of Rider's position?"

The unfortunate man in front of her shifted uncomfortably. He knew it would take a miracle to get out of this alive, and he had accepted the fact as soon as he stepped into the room that he would probably die today.

"I imagine that we have a leak. However, they must not have known of the chip or it would have been removed by now. Our receivers indicate that it is still working functionally within the boy." The man was sweating profusely, and was unable to disguise his relief as the woman nodded her approval.

"What of his position now?" She asked.

The man tensed again. "Unfortunately, he has been placed in what we can only assume is MI6 Headquarters. The chip's signal is being scrambled within a ten mile radius, and is proving impossible to pin down."

"He will have to leave that place at some point. And when he does, we will be waiting for him."

**(Thought about ending it here :P ****)**

"Very well," she continued. She felt that they had resumed control of the situation for now. They would stage the attack at Rider's last known location, three days from now. But there was still the matter of her temper. And she knew just the way to make herself feel better.

The man visibly flinched at the light that entered her eyes as she gazed at him.

"You allowed a mistake to happen. And Scorpia does not allow such things to pass unpunished." She said all this in a deceivingly calm mannerism.

The man knew what was about to happen; he knew there was no point in running.

She lifted her Browning 99, aimed, and fired.

She smiled to herself. Another bullseye.

XxxxxX

Several hours later, the woman stepped into the office of her superior.

"Has the client called?" She questioned. The man sitting at the desk in the luxury office turned to her, and she saw that he had a scar running from his left eyebrow, to under his nose and stopping just below the right corner of his mouth, which was pulled downwards in a perpetual frown.

It took all of her will not to shudder. The man looked like someone had carved their initial on his face.

"Yes. It seems that he wishes to change the targets." He frowned heavily in disapproval, as did the woman. But they both knew that their reputation was too damaged now, to risk losing their client.

"What has he decided on?"

"Instead of Britain's army, he believes it would better serve his cause to eliminate Britain's elite. He wishes us to capture, humiliate, and then kill them." The man looked dubious, as he had every right to do so. It was one thing to kill a thousand lightly trained men, and completely another to capture two hundred skilled combatants alive.

The woman apparently did not share his concern. "When does the attack take place?"

"One week from now. That will give us plenty of time to deal with the Rider boy first."

"Am I to be informed of strategy we need for the capture of the SAS, and am I to assume that we already have their location?"

The man chuckled humourlessly. The woman was inquisitive; she may need to be dealt with. He answered her anyway.

"Yes, on both accounts. I will inform you at a more appropriate time, however."

She smiled, and sauntered out of the office. Why was she smiling?

There were many reasons, and the most important one was at the forefront of her mind.

She was smiling, because one way or another, Alex Rider would die by her hand.

XxxxxX

**And there we go! That was a long chapter, wasn't it? Hope it didn't seem too drawn out, wasn't really meant to be that long... oh well!**

**IN any case, if you're thinking of reviewing, then please refer back to the beginning of the chapter at the A/N written there! Why did I put it at the top? Because I always forget what I want to say afterwards! I know, I am rather forgetful! **

**Anyway, please review! And your name will be placed on next chapter's Honoured Reviewers! **

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	5. Then Twice As Deadly

**Hi there! I'm back, sorry for the delay! Please enjoy the fifth chapter, and remember, please leave your seatbelts on until we have landed. Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: I have a plane. Is that enough?**

**XxxxxxX**

_Two women stood in front of Alex. One was tall, confident, and smirking. The other whimpered at her feet._

_She stood straight, with an air of superiority, and kicked at the trembling human on the floor._

"_Well, Alex. It seems like you have a choice to make. How much do you want to succeed?" She asked._

_Alex gave her a look of burning hatred. He couldn't do this, and she knew it._

_The pitiful woman had been a surrogate mother during his stay, even if it was under a false alias. She'd lost a child around Alex's age ten years ago, and still yearned for the motherly instinct. Alex had grown attached to her._

_And now, Alex realized this woman held the key to saving millions. But only if her heart stopped beating._

_There was no other way; had there been a second option Alex would have taken it. He'd have done whatever it took._

_The organization he'd infiltrated could almost rival Scorpia, but they were too reckless._

_Tears streaming down his face, he whispered a broken "I'm sorry". Before the arrogant young woman realized the look of grim hopelessness in Alex's eyes, he had crouched down and rested his hands on the neck of the shivering female._

_She looked up at him, and started weeping. Not for her own life, but for him, because she knew what it would do to him the second he made the break. She gazed at him silently, conveying one last message._

'_I forgive you.'_

_It was too much for the grieving boy. _

_The snap of bone echoed throughout the room, and if it had had a skylight, Alex was sure the sound would have reached the moon._

_The towering woman above him had twisted her face into a mask of fury. The wretched boy was supposed to have morals, and let the woman live. She was ruined. The only operation entrusted to her, and ruined! This would cost billions, she'd have to go into hiding, join another organization, and work her way up from the bottom._

_Alex paid no attention to this. He was completely numb. He felt, saw, and heard nothing. And in this clear chaos, he found he could analyse everything that had happened. He felt something important lifted from him, and knew it was lost forever._

_Standing up, he swiftly searched a way out, and found it. He disappeared into the frostbitten night, leaving the enraged woman behind, and the body of his surrogate mother of two months._

_He'd come here with his walls firmly up, and had found something that had shocked him. The god-forsaken terrorist plot, yes, but something else too. Something lost before it was known._

_Sometimes, a person puts up walls not just to keep other people out, but to find someone who cares enough to tear them down._

_XxxxxxX_

Soft, luminescent lighting and floral green patterns greeted Alex as he woke up groggily. He had slept in a room in the east wing of MI6 Headquarters, on the sixth floor.

Agent Hutch and Robins had informed him that MI6 housed five of these rooms for agents that stayed overnight. If it was because they had nowhere else to go or were simply in hiding, Alex didn't care. All he thought about was getting his gun back without alerting anyone.

Slipping out from underneath the patterned covers, he stood up sleepily and yawned widely. It was very early – the sun had barely risen over the fiery horizon, when Alex quietly slipped outside.

Padding through the empty hall, scanning for cameras, he tried to remember where the sour agent had taken the gun. How would he get it back?

Alex remembered back to the day when he had first stepped into MI6 Headquarters, right after his uncle's death. He had climbed out onto the window ledge, and reached for the flag pole. It had since been removed, but Alex was thinking something of different. As he was clinging on for his life, a black spiral staircase had caught his eye. It hadn't even been worth thinking about in his predicament, but now the image rushed back to him, eager to be recognised.

The staircase had been rusting, and placed in such a way that it would have been invisible at any other angle. It had led past the ground, stopping a couple meters below. Alex was sure it led into the basement.

Making his way to his uncle's previous office, Alex used every stealth manoeuvre he had been taught. Finding blind spots and disabling cameras, he made his way through the maze of halls. He eventually came to a stop outside Ian's office, and promptly found the door locked.

He looked around him at the dim lighting, thinning carpet and poorly painted portraits. There must be something he could use!

He took a double-look at the paintings, and mused to himself. He could always hide the remnants of the painting in the office he was breaking into. No-one would notice one less crummy painting.

Making up his mind, he reached over to a grey, dismal painting of London, and tore it off the wall. Alex used every muscle of strength he had to slam the painting over his knee, and with a resounding snap, it splintered into 22 – inch long wooden fragments. He picked out an ideal splinter, and set to work on the lock in the door.

XxxxxxxX

15 minutes later, and Alex had gotten nowhere. It was a very state-of-the-art system, and he had a splinter to work with. He felt his desperation mounting with every second that the door stayed locked.

Then he heard the faint sound of feet falling on carpet, and his anxiety tripled. He stumbled with the wooden fragment, and his hands became clumsy.

The footsteps were louder now, and Alex knew he had seconds. He gave one last attempt, and nearly collapsed in relief as the door swung inward.

The same second that the door closed behind him and the remains of the London painting, the footsteps rounded the corner. Alex waited with baited breath as they passed right outside the office he was hiding in, and stopped.

Already thinking of excuses he could make, Alex tensed immeasurably. His shoulders sagged when the footsteps continued to the end of the hall.

He turned around to examine the office. Nothing had changed at all, except that the papers that had littered the desk before had been removed, and he knew for certain that the drawers would be empty and spotless. He turned his attention to the window, and climbed out.

There it was – the rusted black staircase. It was within reaching distance of the window to his left, which was in turn considerably closer than the one on his right.

It was too late to turn back now. Steeling himself against the wind, Alex counted to three slowly, and then jumped.

His fingers caught the end of the ledge, and he tried not to let himself think about what would have happened if he had missed. Hoisting himself up Alex prepared to make the second jump.

He landed neatly this time, and hurried his way down the stairs.

He almost groaned aloud when he came to the door that signalled the end of the staircase, five meters below the ground. It was locked, and he'd left the wooded splinter in the office!

Examining the door, Alex found it was rustier than he had previously thought. He counted to three again, and then lashed out with a forceful back kick. He smiled at the amount of power he'd been able to exert into the kick, and wasn't surprised when the door clanged open.

Alex found himself assaulted by harsh white lights, and made his way down the stark hall, wary of cameras.

He was so focussed on not being detected digitally, that he almost didn't notice the two guards until he practically bumped into them.

"Hey!" One of them shouted furiously. "Wh-" He didn't have time to finish the word before Alex knocked him out with a powerful round-house kick, then made short work of the shocked guard next to him.

They were both soundly unconscious within seconds, and would wake up with some splitting headaches. Not that Alex felt much sympathy for them.

Shrugging, he reached down to unbuckle one of their guns. After all, it didn't matter which gun he had, just that he had one. He tugged off the strap as well, and retied it under his school shirt.

XxxxxX

Alex came in through the front door of the Royal and General ten minutes later, and found his two bodyguards, Agents Hutch and Robins, waiting for him in the reception with his school bag.

At first they stared at him, as both were sure he'd been _inside _the extremely secure building. When he simply gave a shrug of his shoulders at their arched eyebrows and intense stares, they let it go and resumed their normal composure. It was none of their business, even if it had slightly shocked them.

They made it to school without speaking, and stayed out of sight for the remainder of the day, watching for potential suspicious figures.

For Alex, the day passed uneventfully, except for the loaded gazes he received from his peers about his behaviour yesterday. The teachers avoided his gaze as well, preferring to ignore him. After seeing the headmaster and coming up with some particularly creative lies, Alex had managed to get away with only a lunchtime detention.

The only thing of any importance was the continuous buzzing he received from his neck. It was like a particularly angry bee had settled there and was constantly dipping it's stinger into his flesh.

He'd learnt by now that rubbing the spot increased the aggravation, but passed it down as just another sore spot, though a more severe one. It would pass in a few days, he was sure.

XxxxxxX

Back at MI6, Alan Blunt and Mrs. Jones were discussing Alex.

"Will you tell him?" She asked.

"Tell him what?" Blunt replied.

"You know very well what, Alan. Don't play those games now. Will you tell him?" stressed Mrs. Jones.

"No." He eventually replied. "If we told him now, we'd have no idea of his reaction. He would be too unpredictable in that state."

XxxxxX

She rubbed her hands in glee, and couldn't suppress her vicious smile. Life had given her another chance, and she'd be a fool to waste it. She'd learnt from her mistakes, and was stronger than ever.

She'd been stung once, and had returned twice as deadly. This time, she was baying for blood.

XxxxxX

**What do you think? Please tell me if you think I should get a move on with the plot, or is everyone happy at the current pace? Please review!**

**Also, I'm looking for a beta. Would anyone like to offer? They get first dibs on new chapters! I'll probably take on more than one, if any of you want to offer, but I'd also need an explanation of how the beta system works!**

**Ok, so time to honour reviewers, and apologize profusely for reviews that haven't been replied to. If you've read the A/N you'll know why, but I'd have taken it down as soon as I posted this chapter.**

**And without further adieu, the honoured reviewers list!**

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	6. It's A Game

**Hi! I'm back! And I bring with me the Three Kings of Orient that follow the northern star which shall lead them to the holy and blessed sixth chapter!**

**Praise the mind that hath thought to think of this. Amen.**

**Lol!**

**Ok, seriously, enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Once I turn into the fourth king of Orient, No-one shall be safe from my quest to own Alex Rider!**

XxxxxxxX

Brecon Beacons, Wales

In a perpetual torrent of rain, a soldier sat contemplating a boy he'd once known, and had come to respect. The boy had arrived without warning in the middle of the first phase of their SAS selection, and had kept up with them for a whole week. At first he was no more than the spoilt son of millionaire, sent on a disciplinary program in the middle of nowhere.

_He still is_, the soldier berated himself. Unexpectedly, they'd met again in the French Alps, at a finishing school for the troublesome sons of various influential men. The soldier naturally assumed that the boy had been a student.

Before that, the boy had saved his career when he had kicked him out of the plane, and he now had no problem jumping to his death with a parachute.

Because of this, when he'd received notice that the boy had gone into intensive surgery for the removal of his appendix, the soldier had felt a compulsion to send the boy a get-well card. Not much, just a couple of lines and a few words. Not much, but enough.

Then there were the things that didn't add up. A removal of the appendix wouldn't require intensive surgery to take place – it should have been just a simple operation. When he'd first met the boy, he'd been as brutal as possible under the steady gaze of his training sergeant. He'd wanted the boy to leave. That way the soldier could get on with his training without having to deal with a spoilt brat. But then, why hadn't he complained? The boy bore everything that was thrown at him in silence, and hadn't whined, kicked, cried or lost it at all. Not _once._

The storm raged above him, and pelted him continuously with a fierce downpour. The grey, grief-filled clouds shifted restlessly in the darkened sky, rolling and thundering. In the distance, lightning flashed in a graceful streak, and illuminated the night with flashes of insight.

The soldier heard footsteps behind him, and spun around to pinpoint their source. The person stopped, and called out to him, unwilling to leave the shelter that the barracks provided.

The Commanding Sergeant wants to see you in his office, promptly," the man shouted out.

He stood, and walked through the gravel filled mud to his superior's office. Shaking the worst of the wet off him, he knocked on the dull wooden door and entered at the sound of admission.

"Stand down, soldier." The sergeant said, and the soldier relaxed his pose.

"We've had a unit reported missing during a three-day hike. The hike ended two days ago, and there is no sign of the missing men." The sergeant could see his soldier's growing alarm.

"I'm only telling you this because, as a newly recruited unit, I want you to watch the backs of yourself and your men. You will keep this information to yourself."

"You suspect foul play?"

"Positive. Someone knows our location and schedule, and is feeding information. We have reason to believe it may be one of the men currently going through the first phase of selection. Like I said, you will keep this information to yourself. Understood?"

The soldier gave a sharp nod.

"Good. You are dismissed. Return to your barrack and inform only your unit." The sergeant finished, and began to read through the thick files that littered the room.

Wolf stepped back into the rain, and was silhouetted by the shadow of light from the door as it closed gently.

He returned to his barrack half an hour later.

XxxxxxX

Alex meandered through the school at the end of the day. He hadn't taken in much from his lessons, and had been constantly on alert, watching for any signs of suspicious behaviour. He knew Scorpia likely already had the full blueprints of his school. They could have a sniper in place at any time. Alex felt like a mouse running from an owl, and knew that like the mouse, he would tire first.

As he left the school gates, Alex was joined inconspicuously by Agents Hutch and Robins. He'd seen them routinely circling the perimeter of the school many times during the day, and had to admit that they were good.

Just as they reached the black, armoured car, Alex spoke out.

The two men nodded their assent and began to follow the boy as he weaved his way through the crowd. Alex led them past the shops, alleys and roads, turning corners at random intervals. Just as the two men were beginning to wonder if Alex was lost, he stopped in front of a community building.

It was hemmed in by a park on one side, and rows of mundane houses on the other. Behind the low level building the road curved away to show a small car park, with a few ordinary cars already filling up the spaces. As he watched, a boy three years older than himself walked up and strode through the doors as if he owned the place.

Alex nodded to himself, and marched into the community building.

The two agents soon understood where Alex had wanted to go; this was a dojo. A reception stood to the right, and large changing rooms and a cafeteria led off to the left. Straight ahead were the doors that led to the wooden square hall and through the windows they could see that blue mats had already been placed on the laminated floor.

Opening the double doors, Alex spied a small group of people who had already arrived for their lesson. He saw two sisters both with yellow belts, and a young boy of about seven with a blue belt wrapped around his waist. A man with his son stood in the far right corner, tying on white belts.

Alex saw the arrogant young man that had barged through the doors earlier already in his uniform, and he could see that the older teen's black belt had three white stripes tied around it. That was interesting. They were tied in terms of rank; Alex was also a third _Dan_.

He walked across the open space to the stage where the instructor was perched, filling out forms. Waiting patiently for him to finish, Alex took stock of the room.

The instructor seemed to finish, and looked up at the boy in front of him.

"You're interested in a free trial session, then?" He asked. The instructor was in his late thirties, and a hint of a receding hairline could be seen above his slightly wrinkled forehead.

At the boy's nod, he continued.

"And your..."

"Uncles." Alex filled in. "They would like to join me as well."

"Very well. There are spare uniforms in the back closet that you would be welcome to use. I presume you are all beginners?"

"No," Alex replied, "We're black belts in karate."

The instructor raised his eyebrow, but said nothing.

XxxxxxX

50 minutes later, and the instructor's eyebrows were sky-high. Throughout the lesson he had watched this strange boy with blonde hair perform to an exceptional standard, kicking higher and punching stronger, than even his uncles who were by far above his best student's abilities.

What entranced him most was the kid's _fluidity._

When Alex moved, it was a single continuous movement. The same way that you would gracefully raise your hand, that was how Alex kicked, punched, and blocked.

Every move this child made was smoother than the wind. There were no mistakes in his patterns, and each one looked like a swan had dived into a still lake, without causing a single ripple in the glossy waters.

Sometimes he would move so fast he seemed to blur. But it was when you could see clearly the moves and techniques he used that you could really grasp the power exerted into them, the thought that made every movement so precise.

_Beautiful, _thought the instructor.

XxxxxxX

Alex smiled to himself; he was aware of nearly everyone in the room gaping at him.

As he went through another series of patterns, he reflected on how easy it was to awe civilians. You just needed to show them a bit of skill.

All the same, Alex couldn't even begin to describe how good it felt to be able to really exercise his limbs, without the constant strain of thinking _I'm going to die._

Suddenly, Alex stumbled and jerked his head to the left. He saw the black-belt boy walk into the changing rooms with a malicious expression, where he had dressed and left his shoes and his clothes.

And his gun.

XxxxxxxX

A school secretary sat by her computer, watching the time go by. Her fingers nimbly typed out the last of the data into the school's system, diligent even at 6pm when most others had retired for the night.

Finally finishing, she allowed herself a glance at the sunny sky, and smiled to the birds that roosted in the branches of an oak tree.

A shrill beeping caught her mind, and she swivelled around to clutch the phone at her ear.

"Brookland School, secretary speaking,"she said, "How may I help you?"

"Hello. We are part of a group: 'Social Challenges Organisation of Politics, Industries and Agriculture'. We deal with gathering views on each of these movements, which are deemed to be the most influential in coming generations. We would like to hold an assembly in your school, to gather views on how these groups may impact society."

"Of course," the secretary stuttered. "I will need contact details, though other than that, your people can just arrive here tomorrow, and members of staff will be present throughout."

Again came the chilling mechanical voice, "I'm afraid you've misunderstood. We deal with solely the younger generation, preferably Year nine and above. No adults should be present, as they may hold sway over decisions that we will present. It is an inconvenience, I know, but please trust me when I say your students are in the safest hands."

"Alright then, I suppose it... ah... shouldn't be a problem." She agreed unwillingly.

"Excellent, we shall meet again tomorrow."

With that, the connection was cut. Still holding the phone to her ear, the secretary looked out of the window once more.

The sun was no longer shining, hidden away by the clouds that guarded the sky. A leaf fluttered down from the great oak tree, buffeted by the wind, and the roosting birds had taken flight.

Uneasy, she gathered her things and fled the school.

On the other side of the phone line, though the connection had been cut, another woman pondered how easy that had been.

As easy as a shark sighting its prey. She bared her lips, ran her small tongue over her canines, and grinned.

XxxxxxX

"What are you doing?" Alex asked, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed.

The older boy spun around, startled by the sudden noise. "How-," he began.

"It doesn't matter. I asked you what you were doing."

Alex looked at the boy casually, almost in a friendly manner. It was more than obvious what he was doing. The boy still had his hands rooted in Alex's school bag, the dimwit. As for _why, _Alex could haphazard a guess.

The boy eyed Alex warily. The cool creature glided over to him, arms still crossed, eyes glinting with amusement. He gulped nervously, and swung his arms to his side.

As the chilling entity came closer to the boy, now exuding casualness, he flung Alex's backpack at him, attempting to stall the inevitable. Alex reached up with his arms to catch the makeshift missile. The zipper had not been brought up again, and was poorly aimed, so Alex just managed to grab hold of it at its base, upending the bag.

He watched with horror as his belongings surreptitiously spilled onto the ground of the changing rooms. The gun, which had rested contentedly at the bottom of his schoolbag, now lay at the top of the meagre pile of clothes, its inhuman metal surface gleaming like a thousand bronze daggers, dulled by the cotton cradle in which it slept.

The older boy looked up sharply at Alex. "Why -," He shook, and started again. "Why do you have a gun? Who are you?" His voice rose with fear. He stepped back into the row of benches, and seemed dazed by the obstruction.

_Who are you?_

XxxxxxX

The question rang in Alex's ears.

It was muted by the drumming sound of pounding feet. Immediately, Agents Hutch and Robins burst through the door, and took stock of the situation.

Another boy was staring in absolute fear at Alex, and a gun lay on the floor nestled by his clothes. Robins cursed, and whipped out a black high-specification mobile. Hutch gently took Alex by the shoulder, and tugged him outside through the fire door. Over his shoulder, Alex could see Agent Robins grimly locking the door to the dojo, and shuddered.

XxxxxxX

"Do you understand the terms of this binding contract?" After receiving a nod, Blunt carried on. "And do you so accept them?" he asked.

The person seated opposite the grey man gave a shrivelled nod.

"Then we are finished here."

The boy, still dressed in his martial arts uniform scurried out of the dismal office. Blunt nodded to himself.

"He will do," he said to Mrs. Jones, "He's not quite ideal, but suitable enough for my purposes."

Mrs. Jones seemed to want to argue her opinion for a moment, but stepped down and instead walked primly out the door, the heels of her shoes subdued by the shaggy carpet.

XxxxxxX

Alex paced the floor of his room frostily; he'd made an amateur mistake. He'd just assumed no-one would rifle through his bag. To be fair, the chances of it happening were minimal, but that was not the point.

As the hours wore on, his feet started to drag into the alien green carpet, but there had still been no word from his superiors. Knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep, Alex chose to try meditation instead. He'd done it only once before with Jack, and it seemed to fit the time and place now.

Three sharp raps on his door interrupted Alex's thoughts. Opening one eye, he made his way swiftly to the door and opened it, expecting a summons.

Agent Hutch stood outside the door, silently handing him his gun. At Alex's questioning gaze, he spoke stiffly, "Blunt opted to give you the gun, he thinks you are capable enough to handle it; and no doubt you would just steal one again." He said with a shrewd smile. But from the way he spoke reservedly, Alex could tell that obviously the man thought differently.

He cringed as he remembered that the agent did indeed have a point; he surely would have not made the same mistake Alex had.

Accepting the deadly weapon wordlessly, Alex turned his back and shut the door from behind, before sinking down into the meditation pose.

He pushed through the inner turmoil of his head, and sought for the vast chasm that stretched beyond meaning. He hunted for the peace he had felt last time. But his head continued buzzing with angry thoughts, refusing to fly away. Alex imagined his mind as a stormy sky above a wind-ridden meadow, and then fought angrily to push the clouds away.

With every cloud that dissipated, another thought would disappear. Alex carried on like this for awhile, though it was progressively harder. Sometimes he would use the wind to blow away the drifts of a cloud, but either it materialized again, or another would take its place.

Eventually, his mind was free of thought, and the sun's rays flourished the meadow, so that he could look for answers in peace. But he needed a question first. Immediately, the most incessant storm-cloud returned, but it was embraced this time.

Lost in his mind, Alex drifted off.

_Who are you?_

XxxxxX

_A small girl approached; she carried posies in her left hand and a basket in her right. She stopped and stared at a particularly bright flower, and bent to tear it from the earth. A frown appeared on her dimpled face as she bent down; the little girl realized she had no hands free with which to pick up the flower, and upon discovering this, tears started to stream down her rosy cheeks._

"_Don't cry," He said. "Why don't you put your flora in the basket, and then you can pick up the other flower."_

_The crying girl looked at him. In a little voice she replied, "Because the flowers aren't meant for basket. So I can't put them in."_

"_Why not?" He asked. "Surely it wouldn't make a difference?"_

"_The flowers aren't meant for the basket," she answered insistently. "So I can't put them in._

"_Everything has a place. Even I do. My place is here." The little girl continued solemnly. "But you don't. You don't have a place. Does that make you sad?"_

_Strangely, grief seemed to fill the boy; he didn't belong anywhere. Far on the horizon, mournful clouds gathered. Looking up at the wise little girl, he sought answers in her._

"_Don't be sad," She said. "At least you know who you are."_

_XxxxxX_

Alex shot up, and looked around the darkened room. Wearily, he stumbled to his bed and climbed in. Immediately, he fell back into a deep sleep.

_Spinning. Confusion. Voices flitting everywhere; all at once._

"_Who are you?"_

"_Who, me?"_

"_Yes."_

"_What a silly question. I'm me. Who else could I be?"_

"_You could be me."_

"_But I'm not."_

"_Then you're you."_

"_I don't know."_

"_Who else then, if you're not me and you're not you?"_

"_I might be..."_

"_Yes?"_

"_I might be nothing."_

"_Or you might be everything."_

"_How can I be nothing and everything at the same time?"_

"_Don't you know?"_

"_No. Tell me."_

"_Well, you're not me, and you're not you. You aren't everything, and you're not nothing, so who are you?"_

XxxxxX

Alex made his way to school the following day, again tailed by his shadows. As he came within sight of the gritty gates, Tom ran up to him and slapped him on the back. Hard.

"Tom, you bastard, what the hell was that for!" Alex yelled, wincing when Tom rubbed his sore back. The boy grinned back mischievously, well aware that revenge was on its way.

"James bet that I wouldn't be able to land a hit on you before you broke my arm." The cheeky boy announced gleefully.

In a foul mood, Alex stalked off to his homeroom.

He was surprised when he found his form teacher standing by the door, waving everyone to the assembly hall. Shrugging, he followed the flow and wound up next to Tom. Taking their seats, they waited patiently while bickering.

Only Alex noticed the lack of any adult within the hall. _Maybe it's finally happening, _he thought, hairs rising on the back of his neck. Anxiously, he felt for his hidden gun once more.

Throughout the entire year, it was only Tom who realized something big was about to go down. Only he understood the tension rolling off Alex in palpable waves.

Alex was about to whisper instructions to Tom, to at least get him away from whatever was going to happen. But it was too late.

The heavy doors had swung inwards. The hall fell silent. A blazon-haired woman stepped into view, and sauntered up to the podium. She twisted her gaze to meet that of one boy.

Alex paled. His knuckles whitened.

_No._

XxxxxX

She bared her lips, licked her canines and grinned. No-one was leaving this room alive, save for one boy.

"I see you."

**Is it me or are these cliff-hangers starting to lose their effect?**

**Well, there you go! Sorry for the delay, but I realized the plot was moving too slowly **_**(way too slowly!)**_**, so I combined three of my chapters. As you can see, it takes me around a week to write one, due to school and increasing exam stress. Plus I felt it cruel to torture you with more plot fillers!**

**Hmm, my beta said it was dragging more towards the end, and I agree with her, but I just didn't know how to fix that without rewriting the half the story.**

**Ok, onto the ****Honoured Reviewers List!**** These people have really been my motivation throughout this chapter, all I had to do was look at what they wrote!**

**Honoured Reviewers List:**

**Lady Black-Malfoy****, ****It's A Bonsai Tree****, ****demigodsrock101****, ****cjpatel05****, Unknown, ****Iamawsome****, ****Sabsi13****, ****Xx Kiamii xX****, Anonymous, Jamie689, ****Sparkiebunny****, kat, and ****CharmedbyFire****!**

**If you want to see your name appear here, or if you have any critiques or comments about the story, you know what to do!**

**Multicoloured carpet xx**

**P.s. If you are iamlordmoldyshorts, I received your e-mail regarding your offer to beta this story, but haven't heard a reply yet after my answer. If you are still interested, or have lost interest, please tell me.**


	7. Of Cat And Mouse

**Hiya! Has it really been so long? ...I'm losing my mojo 3**

**I'm so sorry its been so long! If I still have any readers out there, I want to really apologize. **

**A special apology for people who have faithfully reviewed my fics every time as well, you guys deserve better! If you can all find it in your hearts to keep reading my chapters, regardless of the length of time inbetween, I'll also try and update so much more frequently!**

**You guys are the best!**

**Without further adieu, tHe NeXt ChApTeR!**

**Disclaimer: Ok, so I don't own Alex Rider, but dammit, I have rights too!**

**XxxxxxX**

Alex paled. His knuckles whitened.

_No._

XxxxxxX

She bared her lips, licked her canines and grinned. No-one was leaving this room alive, save for one boy.

"I see you."

XxxxxxX

Alex gulped heavily. There was nowhere to escape. Not when she was there. Not with half of the student population surrounding him, like a cage.

_Think, Alex, think!_

He kept his eyes trained on the young red-headed feline at the podium, watching as her eyes swiftly roved the hall in search of him. Alex slouched as far as possible on his seat, hoping to hide from the scope of her view, knowing, however, that it was futile. She'd found him last time, and she'd find him again.

Tom shifted his eyes towards Alex's direction, his face creasing as lines of worry appeared on his forehead. Alex's shoulders had slumped imperceptibly, and panic flickered in his irises. At that moment, he resembled a mouse caught in the clutches of a cruel eagle's talons; paralysed.

XxxxxxX

The woman continued to search for Alex. She wasn't about to give up, not when she had come so far. Not when his death lay so close to her red manicured nails.

A flash of movement fled across her vision – blond, tufty hair. It swept like a gazelle just visible over the seats, leaving startled students in its wake. _Yes, _she thought.

Her fingers moved towards her hip and brushed a concealed metallic surface. Her movements, so snake-like, whipped out the gun.

However, her fingers held it from view, just behind her jacket. It wasn't time yet. The woman's broad coppery lips released a contented sigh, before her stormy eyes steeled, and a shriek of _"Stand!" _ echoed in the hall.

The sound reverberated throughout the auditorium, and quieted the students instantaneously.

"You," she whispered to the blond hair still hidden in the seats, "Stand up." Her hiss was louder than the ringing silence in the hall, and it sent shivers on the arms of every student.

Slowly, he stood.

XxxxxxX

Alex watched as Matt Healey slowly straightened up; fear evident on his adolescent face. Tom frantically searched Alex's eyes for answers, answers he knew with every certainty that Alex had, and kept to himself.

_What does she want?_

_Has she followed _you_?_

_What have you done?_

Eyes still trained on the woman at the podium, Alex slowly reached his arm back and patted the gun nestled behind his shirt front. The reassurance that it gave Alex made him breathe an internal sigh of relief – If things headed the way his thoughts had, Alex knew he would need the dangerous safety that the gun could provide for him.

Tom, still searching Alex for answers, furrowed his brow in confusion at Alex's movements. He reached out a questioning hand. His movement came to a jerky stop as Tom stilled at the sound of a safety switched off. He fearfully looked at Alex's eyes again.

They were as cold and dark as the night, and were coated in icy steel.

XxxxxxX

**Yes, I know it's so short and there was practically nothing in it, I just thought that after such a long time, something was better than nothing, right?**

**Besides, I'm hoping that with shorter chapters, I'll be more motivated to start new ones, as I know that it won't be as time-consuming. Therefore, the story might be completed quicker! No more extra-long periods of time! (Probably)**

**Also, to my betas, I'm probably the most suckish beta-ee you've ever had – and it wouldn't be fair of me to ask you to beta my story again after such a long time – so you're all off the hook! (Figuratively speaking)**

**Anyway, on to the awards!**

**My Honoured Reviewers List!**

**These awards go to****: ****Ambrele****, ****Sparkiebunny****, ****iamlordmoldyshorts****, ****DoubleTime****, ****Sabsi13****, ****It's A Bonsai Tree****, ****marisje****, ****Wolfmonster****, ****xXxShiniXKazexXx****, ****puddingisevil****, ****chariots99****, ****32-star****, ****shadow936****, ****Olympiangirl****, ****LittleShush****, ****Wildfury****, ****Sueberry****, ****Mainn****, Emily, ****Legolas Thranduilion****, ****Celestial Flower****, ****aiimee****, ****Blown****, ****emilyyy5254****, R, ****ReillyScarecrowRocks****, ****iamtherealmaverick****, ****anime-lyric****, notnow.**

**Thankyou guys so much!**

**Anyways, I'm off to rediscover my story now!**

**Multicoloured carpet, out.**


	8. 5

**Wooo! How quick, right? Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I really don't like these things. I really don't. Why do you constantly remind me of what I DON'T HAVE?**

**Anyways... ;D**

**XxxxxX**

_Eyes still trained on the woman at the podium, Alex slowly reached his arm back and patted the gun nestled behind his shirt front. The reassurance that it gave Alex made him breathe an internal sigh of relief – If things headed the way his thoughts had, Alex knew he would need the dangerous safety that the gun could provide for him._

_Tom, still searching Alex for answers, furrowed his brow in confusion at Alex's movements. He reached out a questioning hand. His movement came to a jerky stop as Tom stilled at the sound of a safety switched off. He fearfully looked at Alex's eyes again._

_They were as cold and dark as the night, and were coated in icy steel._

XxxxxX

Alex stood up, and paced slowly towards the stage. Every head swivelled towards him, as his limbs moved with the grace of a black panther, and the lethality and predatory instinct whirled throughout him, and was exuded from his every movement.

It was time to end this.

XxxxxxX

The woman glared at the boy with blond hair who had dared to impersonate her target. Her lips twisted into something resembling a frown and a sneer. Her eyebrows bunched together as her anger increased. She had decided – this boy had irritated her, and so he will die. Now.

Just as the fiery-haired woman had decided this, Alex Rider stood up.

She smiled, and her lip snagged on a jutting canine tooth. She looked feral.

XxxxxxX

Alex's steel reserves began to wear down as the weight of the student's gaze settled on him. He quickly snagged a look at Matt – the pale boy stood shivering in his uniform, and was now watching him fearfully.

No guns had been seen or drawn, but not a single person misread the tension and poison in the heavy air.

He was halfway to the stage before Alex stopped moving, and came to a standstill. His weight was placed on the balls of his feet, and his right shoulder came forwards, as though shielding himself for defence. Alex's entire system rested on fight or flight.

"If you kill him," he called out to the woman, "I will kill you." No hesitation, no uncertainty was heard from Alex's calm and disinterested voice.

The only sound in the hall came from Matt, who was now whimpering slightly and sported a pale sheen of sweat on his face.

"You sound so certain, Alex," she remarked, her voice loud and cool, "But I wonder, what if I told you that in order to kill me, you had to dispose of him first? Sound familiar?" Her tone was smooth, yet it screeched through Alex's veins like nails on chalkboard.

"Shut up," he whispered.

"Would you snap his neck, like you did with _her_?" She bore a cruel smile now, one that glinted with evil.

"Shut up."

"Would he forgive you, like _she_ did?" Her eyes were sparkled with amusement.

"SHUT UP!" He roared. His face was streaked with withheld emotion, his features twisted into grief now. Alex took a measured step back and forcibly calmed himself. His shoulders relaxed, his stance opened up, and his eyes once more held their iron steel.

"This ends now," he said, and drew out his gun.

Cacophony racketed throughout the hall, and the students closest to him fell over themselves in their haste to get away. The fearful murmurs died down, as they waited to see what Alex would do.

Looking around, Alex saw every eye riveted on him. Some girls in his class huddled together, whimpering softly. Most of his year mates were pale with terror, at the sight of the gun clasped securely in his hand, never wavering from its target. Finally, Alex looked at Tom.

Tom's face was pale like the rest, but only he knew that this day would not end without a death. His lips were pulled down in acceptance, and his hands were quivering slightly. Tom's eyes, however, did not show fear. Instead, he gazed at his best friend with poignant eyes, ones tinged with a deep sadness. His mouth formed the questions that his eyes asked. No sound came out – none was needed.

_Who have you become, Alex? I don't recognize you._

XxxxxxX

Alex tore himself away from Tom's gaze, and focused again towards the stage. His gun pointed at the single figure standing unprotected on the podium, and he knew this would be an easy shot.

He lined up his aim, and tensed himself in preparation for the rebound of the gun.

His finger tightened on the trigger. The buzzing sensation returned to his neck.

His grip tightened imperceptibly, now milliseconds away from the rush of the bullet. The force on his neck tingled and grew stronger. Buzzing. Shaking. Clear, decisive agony.

Alex let the gun clatter to the floor, and crouched with a short yell, gripping his neck.

He pulled his fingers away, and saw them stained with crimson.

XxxxxxX

**OMG what just happened? Oh, wait, I know!**

**Ok, that was another chapter. Apologies on the shortness, but see how quickly it came up? My plan is working!**

**OK, time for the Honoured Reviewers List! Remember, if you want your name to be immortalized on this list, you know what to do! Besides, it motivates me very much! (Especially constructive criticism – I want to get better, guys!)**

**Ok, ****Honoured Reviewers List!**

**Xurtan****, ****Sabsi13****, ****ivilightx****, ****ReillyScarecrowRocks****, ****Sparkiebunny****, A random person, Riley Erin**

**Thank you everyone! : D**


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